


Complementary Colours

by blueseys



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Enemies to Lovers, Hate Sex, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Drug Use, Public Blow Jobs, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, Violence, they hate each other but they also Fuck each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-08-29 10:09:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8485285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueseys/pseuds/blueseys
Summary: Art student Eren Jaeger thought that perhaps he could live with watching everyone else date and fall in love. However, after a chance encounter on campus, he found himself wanting more. The trouble is, he's found himself fantasising about someone with a troubled past and a troubled personality to match. Still, Eren's always been one for conflict.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first ever snk fic (omg). basically, i'm a sucker for college aus so i thought that i would write my own
> 
> i had a lot of fun writing this chapter and i'm SO excited for things to come (!) this is gonna be a wild ride
> 
> even though the rating is explicit, this chapter is decidedly unsexy, but don't worry it's coming! (not a euphemism)
> 
> pls feel free to hit me up on tumblr (walkinmordor) [cheeky self-plug]
> 
> i really hope you like it!

The weather was something that seemed to only exist within the realms of literature; the air was cool, alive with the promise of autumn, the sky was a perfect azure, stretching out over the campus of Shiganshina University, and the leaves were just beginning to turn into a riot of colour, a tapestry of reds and oranges. But all this didn’t matter, because Eren was late. He was so fucking late, and it was all his fault. He knew he shouldn’t have pressed snooze on his alarm so many times, but he did it anyway. Cursing himself for being stupid (again) he bolted through campus, nearly slipping on wet leaves in the process. The other students stared at him as he barrelled past them, some giving him dirty looks as he wasn’t exactly looking where he was going. 

‘Shit, sorry!’ he apologised to a very angry Jean, whom he had accidentally bumped into, muttering something about ‘fucking art students’, despite him being one himself. Eventually he made it to his art history lecture with, miraculously, one minute to spare. Doubling over, he braced his hands on his thighs, catching his breath. 

‘Fuck me,’ he muttered to himself. 

‘Maybe later,’ came a familiar voice behind him. Straightening up, he turned around to find his best friend Armin Arlert. Eren grimaced. 

‘Oh my god,’ he said, as Armin laughed. ‘I can’t believe you just said that.’ 

‘What?’ said Armin defensively. ‘I can have a sense of humour too!’ Eren shook his head and ruffled Armin’s blond hair fondly, smiling slightly. 

‘C’mon, let’s go in.’ Eren pushed open the door to the lecture theatre, Armin in tow. 

‘I was going to say I can’t believe you were very nearly late again, but then I remembered it’s you,’ teased Armin, as they sat down near the back of the theatre. ‘Honestly, you’ve got to stop pressing snooze so much. One day, you’re really going to be late and you’ll have to walk into the lecture with everyone staring at you.’ 

‘You’re an asshole,’ said Eren, not meaning it in the slightest. At that moment, Professor Shardis walked in with his usual air of authority. Silence settled around them, uneasy and apprehensive. Keith Shardis was a forbidding man, all power and intellect. Despite his bald head, which was usually the subject of many jokes amongst the students, he had these cold eyes that bore into you and stripped you of all confidence. One of his favourite hobbies seemed to be shouting at poor, unsuspecting students for minor offences. Needless to say, he wasn’t one of Eren’s favourite lecturers. Shardis launched into a spiel regarding the anti-establishment and surrealist nature of Dadaism, to which Eren immediately stopped listening to, doodling absent-mindedly in the corner of his notebook. Armin, on the other hand, was diligently taking notes, as always, which admittedly made Eren feel slightly guilty for not paying attention. 

An hour later, which felt more like two hours according to Eren, the two boys packed up their notebooks and headed out into the autumn day. ‘Oh man, I thought I was gonna die in there,’ said Eren, wearily. ‘That was so fucking boring. I barely understood any of it. I hate that we have to do Art History. I’m not cut out for that shit. You know that drawing and painting is where my true talent is.’ 

Armin sighed. ‘Well it’s your fault that you were basically sleeping through the entire lecture. I’m surprised Shardis didn’t pick up on it. You would’ve been in big trouble if he had.’ ‘I can handle him,’ Eren muttered. Armin snorted in response. ‘Anyway, back to more important matters. I’m fucking starving. D’you wanna go to Maria’s?’ He was referring to the best coffee shop on campus; a popular haunt for sleep-deprived students looking for their caffeine fix. Armin nodded in agreement and they made their way through the throng of students who were making their way to and from classes. 

Once inside the café, and into the warm, coffee-scented air, they joined the end of the ever-growing line, mostly comprising of tired students. For some reason, Eren’s eyes honed in on the man in front of them; he was relatively short of stature, with short jet black hair, underneath which was an undercut. Despite his height, he held himself like he was several inches taller, and he alluded an air of dominance and control. Eren felt intimidated just by looking at the back of him. The man in front ordered his drink (Americano, no cream), and Eren couldn’t help noticing how pleasant his voice was; it was gentle and authoritative all at once, low and captivating, and completely alluring. A sharp elbow in his side yanked Eren out of his reverie. Armin, wide-eyed, nodded his head toward the barista, who was waiting to take his order. 

‘Uh…s-sorry,’ he stuttered. ‘Um…I’ll have a medium cappuccino, please. Oh, and a blueberry muffin. Uh, please.’ After Armin had also ordered (a latte) they waited for their drinks. The man who was in front of them was also waiting there. From this angle, Eren could get a better look at the man’s face. Eren was surprised to find that he was incredibly attractive. He looked vaguely pissed off, but his blue eyes, that were so light they were almost grey, the thin, dark eyebrows pulling down towards his eyes, and his fine facial structure worthy of a model, took Eren’s breath away. The man’s steely eyes flitted to Eren and held his gaze. Embarrassingly, Eren felt a blush creeping up his face, and he quickly averted his eyes. Staring at the ground, he felt another sharp prod in his side. He looked up to see Armin, who was yet again giving him a wide-eyed look. Belatedly, he realised that his coffee was ready and feeling embarrassed, he mumbled a quick thanks and dragged Armin towards a table. Having found a free table, Eren sat down quickly, Armin following suit. 

Armin wasted no time in interrogating him. ‘What happened over there? I’ve never seen you that rattled before. Since when are you shy? Do you know that man?’ The look on Armin’s face was one of both incredulity and confusion. 

‘Woah, keep it down. Stop bombarding me with questions.’ Eren cast a worried glance in the direction of the man, who was leaving the café, takeaway coffee cup in hand. His shoulders slumped. At least he couldn’t overhear him now. 

‘I dunno what happened,’ Eren continued, staring down at his coffee cup. ‘I guess I just wasn’t concentrating.’ He took a sip of his coffee, grimaced, and promptly poured in two sugar sachets. Although Armin squinted at him suspiciously, and he could tell Armin knew there was more to the story, he didn’t press on. Armin could be overprotective and overly-concerned, but at least he knew when to drop something. 

The man continued to occupy Eren’s mind throughout the entire journey back to his apartment. Eren, for all his bravado and self-proclaimed confidence, was admittedly a little flustered and he wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was his steady stare, hard enough to knock down the tough demeanour Eren had built for himself. Maybe it was the way his cool blue eyes bore into him, leaving him feeling stripped raw and vulnerable. Or maybe it was the way he was so beautiful that Eren felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, leaving him breathless and gasping for air. In any case, he had left him heart pounding, palms sweating, and feeling like he had settled inside his mind, and it didn’t look like he was leaving any time soon. 

Finally, Armin and Eren got back to their apartment, which was located on the fifth floor of a relatively dingy building, all exposed brick and dirty windows. Unfortunately, there was no elevator, which meant that they had to endure a fairly horrific climb up the stairs, usually resulting in at least someone being winded. 

‘Are – you – okay?’ Armin managed to get out between laboured breaths. ‘You were – oh god – you were – really quiet – the – entire walk home.’ They had got up to their floor, and Armin was steeling himself on the banister, trying not to act as winded as he felt. To Eren, he wasn’t exactly doing a brilliant job. 

‘I dunno, man,’ Eren shrugged, who was, annoyingly, not as out of breath as climbing up five flights of stairs seemed to warrant. ‘I guess I’m just tired.’ Eren unlocked the door and swung it open. Armin opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment, Eren noticed an all too familiar person on his sofa. Someone with inky black hair and take-no-shit attitude. 

‘Mikasa? What the fuck are you doing here? I knew I shouldn’t have given you a spare key to my place. Don’t you have your own apartment?’ His adopted sister, Mikasa, raised an eyebrow. ‘First of all, language. Second of all, nice to see you too.’ 

‘First of all, fuck you,’ Eren countered, mimicking Mikasa’s dry tone. ‘Second of all, I am glad to see you, you idiot. I was just surprised to see you. On my fucking couch.’ 

‘Hi, Mikasa,’ piped up Armin. Mikasa raised a hand in greeting. 

‘Seriously, though,’ Eren continued. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you had class today.’ Mikasa, like Eren, was a sophomore and, unlike Eren, was majoring in Architecture. Eren found Architecture majors intimidating; not only was he yet to find one who actually slept, but they all seemed to allude an aura of callousness and indifference. Eren was convinced none of them were human (he was undecided as to whether Mikasa was human or not). 

‘Class was cancelled,’ came Mikasa’s voice. ‘Plus, do I need an excuse to see my cute little brother?’ 

Eren rolled his eyes.‘I’m gonna stop you right there. For one, it’s adopted brother to you and I’m not cute. I’m cool and badass. If anyone, Armin’s the cute one.’ Armin blushed and uttered a squeak of protest. 

Mikasa snorted. ‘I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. So, how was your day? Did you actually learn anything? Have you found a boyfriend yet?’ Eren coming out as gay had, thankfully, been a relatively pain-free process, with the exception of a few, unfortunately inevitable, assholes. Eren had blurted out one morning that he was gay, heart pounding, expecting the worst. To his relief, Mikasa shrugged, proclaiming that it was cool and she was bisexual anyway, and threatened to punch anyone who revealed any homophobic inclination. And that was the end of that. 

‘Oh, come on,’ said Eren. ‘You know I didn’t learn anything. I fucking hate art history lectures. And no I haven’t found a boyfriend yet.’ Unwillingly, his mind went to the enigmatic coffee shop man who had been occupying his thoughts all afternoon. Eren dismissed that thought as quickly as it came. For someone like that to show an interest in him seemed to be virtually impossible, and Eren was not one for unrequited pining. But, even so, it was nice to be able to attach a face to his bullshit daydreams and night-time fantasies. 

‘Hellooo,’ came a voice uncomfortably close to his ear. ‘Anyone home?’ Mikasa was waving a hand in front of his face, looking equal parts irritated and amused. ‘What happened there? You had the weirdest look on your face. You were kind of biting your lip and smirking a little bit as well. Honestly, I wish I had a camera on me. You looked so stupid.’ It wasn’t often that Mikasa joked around and, usually, it was at Eren’s expense. But Eren didn’t care too much; he’d rather be the brunt of her jokes than never seeing her smile. Not that he’d tell her, of course. He had a reputation to uphold. 

‘Oh sorry, my bad. I’m really tired. I had school today.’ 

‘Eren, you had one lecture.’ 

‘Yeah, but like, I had to concentrate.’ 

‘Oh, that’s definitely a blatant lie. Also, I’m willing to bet that you didn’t even take notes.’ Mikasa looked at Armin for confirmation. 

‘It’s true.’ Eren looked at Armin, betrayed. Armin gave a small, apologetic smile. 

‘Anyway,’ said Eren, eager to change the subject. ‘I hope you’ve finished being complete ass-wipes. Mikasa, you still haven’t told me exactly why you’re here.’ Mikasa sighed. ‘Because Sasha has a new boyfriend. You know, Connie? Stupid name. Anyway, he’s always there and one too many times I’ve walked in on some things that I’ll probably need therapy for the next few years for. Once, I heard him call her ‘mommy’.’ She looked as if she might throw up. Sasha was Mikasa’s roommate and as of late, Mikasa had found she had signed up for more than she had bargained for. Spontaneous fits of passion being one of them. Eren and Armin burst out laughing. 

‘It’s not funny! You weren’t there! It was honestly horrible. I don’t think I’ll ever recover.’ 

‘Ah, sorry,’ laughed Eren, not sounding sorry at all. ‘Fine, you can stay. We can order pizza if you want.’ 

‘Eren, you always order pizza.’ 

‘Yes, but this’ll be special pizza. We’ll have pineapple on it.’ 

‘NO,’ came two horrified voices. 

‘Okay, okay,’ resigned Eren, putting his hands up in defeat. ‘We won’t have pineapple. I’ll let you choose the toppings, if you want. Just know that you don’t know what you’re missing.’ Armin and Mikasa didn’t look convinced. 

And so they spent the evening, just the three of them, curled up on the sofa, eating pizza, and watching shitty movies on the TV. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the man from the coffee shop and Eren managed to prevent his presence from getting too big and consuming him. By midnight, both Armin and Mikasa had fallen asleep, mouths ajar and looking utterly at peace. As he looked at the faces of his sleeping friends, he thought that perhaps he didn’t need romance right now. Maybe this was enough. But, after Mikasa had gone back to her own apartment, Armin had gone to his room and Eren had got into his own bed, he lay awake and let himself consider the possibility of a relationship. He couldn’t help feeling that, as ridiculous as it was, he’d quite like to see that breath-taking face again. Before he knew it, the face that had been the subject of his thoughts during the day had also become the subject of his dreams. 

It wasn’t until he woke up the next morning that he realised quite how desperate he was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter took me ages to write, mainly because uni is kicking my ass  
> but yay! finally there's a second chapter!  
> (i'm sorry, this chapter is also decidedly unsexy, but don't worry all in good time)  
> enjoy!

The entire class were sat behind their easels holding their breath, waiting for the inevitable bombshell. Their professor, who had insisted that they all call her Hanji, looked ready to explode with excitement. They didn’t trust her one bit.          

‘Now, kiddos. I have a very exciting assignment for you today. I think you’re all going to like it very much. I, for one, am thrilled,’ she said, glasses glinting manically. The class were immediately apprehensive. Rumour had it that whenever Hanji was excited about something, it did not bode well for anyone.                                            

She looked around the room, excitement rolling off her in waves. ‘We’re going to give life drawing a go!’ she said shrilly. ‘Boys, keep your boners in check,’ she added with a wink. There was a palpable sense of discomfort. Armin looked as if he wanted to die.

Hanji clasped her hands together. ‘I now present to you, our model who has volunteered to strip off and flaunt his body!’ Next to Eren, Sasha mimed gagging. ‘Drum roll please! Jean Kirstein!’                                                                                                              

‘ _Shit_ ,’ muttered Eren. Today was going to be hell.

‘I definitely didn’t sign up for this,’ whispered a very disgruntled Eren.                              

‘Honestly, I’m inclined to agree,’ replied a very apprehensive Armin.

Jean walked in wearing nothing but an uncomfortably thin robe, a smirk playing on his lips. Eren could tell he was enjoying this. He wondered if it was too late to fake an illness in order to get out of what was going to be possibly the worst two hours of his life. Unfortunately, it didn’t look as if Hanji was going to let anyone out of the room. Eren felt as if he had been sent to the gallows. With a wink directed at Marco who looked close to feverish, Jean dropped his robe. Eren swallowed the bout of nausea that threatened to consume him and picked up his pencil.

A painful two hours later, Eren and Armin packed up their things, along with the rest of the mildly traumatised students, and made their way towards the door in an effort to get out of there as soon as possible.

‘Eren, wait!’ came Hanji’s shrill voice.

Eren turned around reluctantly. ‘What?’

‘I have an exciting prospect for you!’ Eren longed for the day to end.                                   

‘No, no, trust me, it’s genuinely exciting!’ Hanji continued, noting Eren’s sceptical look. ‘A few of my arty friends were very much interested in what my students have been producing. They have requested to see some of my best students’ work. And, lucky you! You have been chosen!’                                                                                                                                   

Eren stared at her. ‘Wait, _what_?”                                                                                            

‘I chose your work to be placed in an art show coming up. You have so much talent, you know.’

This unprecedented expression of praise threw Eren off guard. Normally, Hanji’s method was to push for better; to strive for perfection. Hearing her actively praising him was unexpected, and a little humbling if he was honest.                                                                                               

‘Oh, thank you, er, I’d be honoured.’                                                                                          

‘Great! I’ll tell them. Do you mind if I give your number to one of them? He’s a very important art dealer and he has organised this art show to showcase up and coming talent. He’ll tell you where to be and when. Be warned though, he’s a little…difficult, so don’t, ah, test him.’ Hanji was all too aware of Eren’s occasional outbursts of anger.                                         

‘Sure, that’s cool.’ He gave his number to Hanji, grinning. ‘I’ll try not to annoy him.’ What’s his name, by the way?’                                                                            

‘Levi. Levi Ackerman.’                                                                                                          

‘Levi, huh? Cool name. Anyway, thank you! This is awesome. I can’t believe I’ve been chosen for my _artistic talent_. Oh man, Jean’s gonna be so _pissed_. Whoops, sorry, Hanji,’ he hastened to add, seeing her slightly downturned mouth.                                                     

‘Okay, so, I’ll get going now. This is _so_ fuc… _fun_. Okay, um. Bye! Thanks again!’ he said, heading towards the door, dragging a still silent Armin.                          

‘Congratulations, Eren!’ exclaimed Armin, once they were out and into the crisp, autumn day. ‘This is incredible news! I knew that one day your talent would be recognised. Who knows, maybe this will pave the way for more opportunities in the future.’                         

‘Okay, woah. Don’t get ahead of yourself,’ reasoned Eren, although he was unable to prevent the grin that was threatening to take over his face.

Eren’s heart soared. _Finally,_ he was being recognised and his dream of becoming a proper artist didn’t seem quite so far away, nor did it seem more like a pipe dream. Lately, he hadn’t been able to shake the feeling of inadequacy; a sinking weight in his chest followed by the bitter taste of failure. But _now_ , he didn’t feel quite so insufficient; feeling the warmth of pride beginning to creep into his heart, slowly melting away the coldness that had resided within him for so long. He just hoped that this Levi person would help him on his way to success. Who knew, maybe this whole thing would distract him enough to forget about the man from the coffee shop; the man who had still not left his mind; the man who had taken his breath away and still hadn’t given it back.

 ***

Eren’s alarm cut through his dream, dragging him unceremoniously into consciousness. Reaching out his hand, he whacked his bedside table a few times, hoping to turn off his alarm in the process. When the shrill beeping eventually stopped, he rubbed his eyes and tried to dredge up some aspects from his dream. He was sure there were some giant humanoid creatures in it. Giving up on trying to remember, he picked up his phone and peered at the screen, eyes still blurry from sleep. There was a text from an unknown number.

**[From: Unknown]**

Eren, it’s Levi Ackerman. Meet me at Maria’s Coffee Shop on your University Campus at 2pm today. I’ll wait outside. I want to discuss some things with you regarding the Art Show. Please tell me if you can’t make it.

 _He’s so formal,_ thought Eren, quickly adding Levi’s name to the contact and typing a response.

**[To: Levi]**

Cool, I’ll meet you there. Do you know what I look like?

As he had gone to press send, it had struck him that Levi didn’t know what he looked like and vice versa. Almost immediately, he got a text back.

[ **From: Levi]**

Yes. Don’t worry.

‘Well, that’s not creepy at all,’ muttered Eren. Putting down his phone, he dragged himself out of bed and headed to the bathroom. If he was going to meet a very important person in the art world, he thought it wise to have a shower beforehand. He didn’t want to make a bad impression, after all.

 ***

‘Shit, shit, _shit_.’ As usual, Eren was late. At this point, he wasn’t surprised, but that didn’t stop the bitter taste of panic catching in his throat every time. He was forced to accept that he was going to wear his oversized white t-shirt and ripped jeans: he didn’t have time to change into something more appropriate. He clumsily tugged on hi-top converse, threw a jacket on, and raced out the door; a method of leaving his apartment that he was all too familiar with.

After a very stressful half-walk-half-run, he eventually made it to Maria’s. Breathing hard, he dug around in his pocket for his phone to check just how late he was. 2:06pm. Really, that wasn’t too bad, by Eren’s standards. As he tried to control his breathing, he heard a voice.  A low, alluring voice.                                             

‘Eren? Eren Jaeger?’ His head snapped up. _No, no way_. Walking toward him was the man from the coffee shop. _The_ man from the coffee shop. The face that had been haunting him for the past couple of days. The face that had been etched on the inside of his eyelids every time he closed his eyes. The breath that had been trying to get back was stolen from him once again.                                                                                                                                    

Belatedly, he realised that he should probably say something. ‘Uh, y-yeah. I’m Jaeger. Uh, E-Eren. Eren Jaeger.’ _Seriously,_ what was wrong with him? He had never been quite this verbally inept before.                                                                                                                              

A spark of amusement lit up in Levi’s eyes. ‘Okay, Eren Jaeger.’ Lazily, he raked his eyes down the length of Eren’s body and up again. He quirked an eyebrow. ‘I’m Levi Ackerman. Shall we go in?’ Mutely, Eren nodded, not trusting himself to speak and embarrass himself further. And so they headed into the café, with Eren trying to both breathe normally and to desperately flatten the dark brown disarray of his hair. Both efforts proved to be futile.

Never had queuing up to order coffee been so stressful. Eren spent the entire time in the line, heart hammering, palms sweating, and anxiously attempting to appear cool and collected despite the fact that he was the very antithesis of that. When it was finally his turn to order, he managed to ask for a cappuccino without too much stumbling over words. Levi then ordered an Americano without cream (with ease, the bastard). Vaguely, Eren recalled that these were the exact same drinks that they had ordered when Eren had first set eyes on Levi. Not that Eren had thought about this a lot, of course. When they collected their drinks, Levi led Eren to a table in one of the far corners of the café.                                                                     

‘Good, there’s far less people here,’ Levi murmured as he sat down, motioning for Eren to join him. Eren’s heart wasn’t steady in the slightest.                                 

‘So, Eren,’ said Levi, after Eren had sat down. ‘I’m not sure what Hanji has said about me, but knowing her, she’s said something stupid.’ Eren felt a strange urge to defend her. ‘Anyway,’ he continued. ‘Essentially, I am an art dealer if we’re going to be crude about it. Primarily, I look for promising new artists so I can buy their art and then sell it. You know how it goes. I mean, I’m assuming you know what an art dealer is. You can’t be _that_ stupid.’           

Eren felt a little annoyed. ‘Yeah, of course I do.’                                                                   

‘Oh good, so I don’t have to dumb things down for you, kid.’ The pedestal that Eren had constructed for Levi was gradually being knocked down. Eren’s hands clenched into fists.                                                                                                                                             

‘My name’s not _kid_. I’m fu- I’m nineteen.’ Eren swallowed down the torrent of swear words that were threatening to spill out.                                                             

‘Oh, _nineteen_. I apologise. Do you want me to call you teenager?’                                        

‘Look, you’re not that much older than me. Get off your high-horse, asshole.’ Eren regretted it almost instantly.                                                                                                             

‘What did you just call me?’ Levi’s eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘See, this is exactly why I don’t like working with kids. Particularly obnoxious brats like you. They never know when to shut their goddamn mouths’                                                                                         

Eren begrudgingly resolved that he should probably apologise if he had any hope of working with Levi. Even if he was a tremendous asshole. ‘Sorry, I don’t know what came over me,’ he mumbled, hating how much he sounded like a sulky teenager.                                  

Levi regarded him coldly. Eren shivered. ‘You had better be thankful that I actually think you have some shred of talent, brat. Otherwise I would have left your sorry ass here ages ago.’                                                                                                                                 

‘Listen,’ he continued. ‘We don’t have to get along. All we have to do is tolerate each other for long enough so that I can exhibit your art in my art show. I’ll then sell your art, you’ll get your money, and we won’t have to see each other again after that.’                                  

‘Fine.’   

‘Good.’

Levi picked up his coffee cup at took a sip. Eren couldn’t help noticing that he had a very particular way of holding it; his hands made a cage around the top of the cup, his long fingers delicately clasping the rim. It was oddly fascinating.                                                                   

‘The art show is this Friday at 8pm,’ Levi said, all business. ‘It’s being held at The Wall. I assume you know where it is.’ The Wall was a prestigious art gallery in the city, known for its penchant for high-end art and extortionate prices. Eren would kill to be able to have his art showcased there. ‘I expect you to arrive there at 7pm to set up. Tell Hanji which piece you’d like to showcase and she’ll arrange for it to arrive at the gallery. If you’re late by even a minute, you’re going to wish you had never even met me.’                                                   

‘I won’t be late, I promise.’                                                                

‘We’ll see.’

‘Oh my _god_. I fucking said I wasn’t going to be late. Just fucking trust that I won’t, okay? I’m not some incompetent little child.’ Eren’s hands were clenched into fists again.

Levi leaned forward. There was no warmth in his eyes; just an impenetrable shield of ice. ‘Be careful, brat. I am giving you this opportunity that most artists would _kill_ for. If you’re going to be a jumped-up little shit about it, you can kiss everything goodbye. Just so we’re clear, I am well-renowned in the art world and I know some people that would scare your cocky, arrogant little ass shitless. I’m not fucking playing games here.’ And with that, he stood up and headed towards the door.

‘7pm. The Wall. Don’t be late,’ he said on his way out.

Eren watched his retreating figure, trying to process what had just happened. He was certain about one thing: that he had changed his mind about Levi. It didn’t matter that he was stupidly beautiful; he was a fucking condescending asshole. He got up, leaving his undrunk coffee, and exited the café. He spent the entire walk back to his apartment devising comebacks he could use on Levi, smirking sardonically as he imagined the shocked look on his face.

‘Eren! How was your meeting with the elusive art dealer?’ Armin’s excited voice greeted Eren immediately as he walked through the door of their apartment.      

‘Fucking sucked.’                                                                                                      

Armin’s face fell. ‘Did it not go well?’                                                                          

‘Oh don’t worry, it’s still happening.’ Armin let out a sigh of relief. ‘But the art dealer is literally the biggest fucking bastard that I’ve ever met. I fucking hate him.’                           

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Eren,’ consoled Armin, his eyebrows upturning in worry.                            

‘It doesn’t matter. I mean, like, we literally just have to tolerate each other until this whole thing is ever and then I’ll never see him again.’ Those words left a strange weight in his stomach, and he wasn’t sure why. ‘Anyway, fuck it. Fuck him. Do you mind if I text some people to come over later? I want to get shit-faced. It is Saturday night, after all.’                                                                             

‘Of course.’

 ***

A few hours later, Armin and Eren’s apartment was a riot of noise. Music thumped out of Eren’s speakers, so loud you could feel it in your bones, reverberating through you. Empty bottles and cans, as well as a couple of stray slices of pizza, littered the table tops; laughter and cheers echoed through the rooms, noise control non-existent due to everyone’s intoxicate state.                                                                                                                                                     

‘Where did you get all this alcohol from?’ a bewildered, yet thankful Eren had asked at the beginning of the night.                                                                            

‘Ah, that’s on a need to know basis,’ Connie had replied smugly.                                        

‘But I need to know.’                                                                                                 

Connie had just chuckled and left Eren to join Sasha.

Now, Eren swiped one of the bottles of vodka from the kitchen counter and held it up in the air.                                                                                                       

‘Who wants to do shots?’ he shouted over the commotion.

A chorus of cheers erupted. After pouring a shot for everyone who wanted one, he knocked back his own.                                                                                              

‘Argh! Disgusting. I fucking hate vodka.’                                                                             

‘Don’t be such a pussy,’ slurred Jean, though Eren couldn’t help noticing that he was grimacing a little too.                                                                                 

‘You’re not supposed to like vodka,’ came Connie’s voice, his arm slung haphazardly around Sasha’s shoulders. ‘It’s meant to just get you drunk.’                                               

‘Can’t argue with that,’ said Eren, smiling as he poured some more vodka in a cup. ‘Whoops, added too much. Ah well.’ He shrugged and topped it up with coke.

A few more drinks later, there was no doubt about it: Eren was drunk. Staggering, he pushed his way through the mass of bodies glistening with sweat, the smell of alcohol and perfume mingling. Eventually, he found Mikasa and Armin.                                                                                   

‘Eren! Hi!’ said Mikasa brightly. Even through his inebriated state, he could tell Mikasa was slightly drunk. ‘We were just talking about you.’                                                           

‘Nothing…bad I…hope,’ he slurred.                                                                                     

‘Nah, we were just talking about your meeting with Mr. Grumpy Pants,’ she giggled. Mikasa was _definitely_ drunk. ‘Sounds like he’s a dick.’                                      

Eren’s seized his chance. ‘Oh my fucking _god_. He’s the fucking _worst_. I fucking hate him. Fuck. He’s so…so, ah fuck, he is _so_ stupid. Like, oh my god. He…fucking…he is…shit. And d’you know the worst thing?’ Armin and Mikasa shook their heads. Eren drunkenly pointed a finger at them. ‘He’s fucking _hot_. Oh man, he’s so fucking hot I can’t think straight. Not that I’m straight or anything.’ He laughed and winked at an embarrassed Armin and a Mikasa who looked as if she regretted saying anything. ‘Oh man, like, I fucking…I fucking hate him but I also y’know…want to _fuck_ him. Y’know what I’m saying? Fuck him but also like, _fuck_ him. You know what I’m saying?’                                                                                              

‘Christ, okay,’ said a slightly less buoyant Mikasa. ‘I think you’ve had enough to drink.’                                                                                                               

‘ _You’ve_ had enough to drink.’                                                                                                

‘Good comeback,’ Mikasa deadpanned. ‘Okay, let’s get you some water. C’mon on, Armin.’ They led Eren through the mass of bodies, past an entangled Jean and Marco, and into the kitchen.                                                                                                                            

‘Come on, Eren,’ said Armin, who was arguably the most qualified to sort out Eren, being the least drunk out of the three. ‘Drink the water. You’ll feel better.’

Later, when everyone had gone home and the carnage that was left behind was all too evident, Eren laid in his bed and stared at the ceiling. His mind was jumbled and it wasn’t because of the alcohol. Whilst it was true that he felt an overwhelming sense of antipathy whenever he thought of Levi, there was something there, below the surface, that he didn’t want to acknowledge. The truth was, he liked conflict, he always had. He liked the rush in his veins, the quickening of his heartbeat, the adrenaline that coursed through him, setting him on high alert. There was something dangerous, something exciting, something so inherently _different_ about opposition. It broke up the monotony of his life and everything didn’t seem quite so tedious. His mind swirled, emotions clashing against one another; a battleground in his head. Finally, after the turmoil had calmed down and his mind settled. Exhausted, sleep overcame him. Before he drifted off into unconsciousness, the last thing he saw was the pair of ice-cold eyes seared at the back of his eyelids.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i avoided my uni work by writing this (priorities)  
> this chapter was so much fun to write omfg  
> enjoy!

The next morning, Eren awoke to a heavy head and scratchy throat. Midmorning sunlight filtered through the gaps in his blinds, the pale yellow light dancing on the floor and on the walls. This morning, however, Eren was immune to the sleepy glow of the morning. He felt terrible. The sandpaper feeling residing in his throat wasn’t quite enough to distract him from the pounding in his head, painful and relentless. Wincing, he heaved himself into a sitting position and immediately regretted it. 

_Don’t be sick don’t be sick don’t be sick_. He repeated this mantra a few times before deciding that perhaps he should go and get some water. After around three minutes of what felt like intense exertion, he eventually managed to get out of bed and shuffle into the kitchen. When he walked in, he was greeted by the sight of both Armin and Mikasa sitting at the table. Armin was eating toast and immersed in a thick book, whilst Mikasa was cradling a coffee cup near her face, dark shadows beneath her eyes. They both looked up. Armin smiled at the sight of a bedraggled Eren, who certainly looked a little worse for wear. 

‘Oh, good morning, Eren,’ said Armin cheerily. Eren grunted in response. ‘How are you feeling?’ 

‘Like I got hit by a fucking bus,’ croaked Eren. He opened a cupboard to look for a glass. 

‘I’m so thirsty.’ 

‘We know.’ 

Eren looked at them. ‘What?’ he asked. ‘What’s with that voice?’ 

Armin and Mikasa exchanged a glance. Armin spoke up. ‘Y-you don’t know?’ 

‘Know what?’ 

To his credit, Armin looked a little uncomfortable. ‘Er…you _confessed_ some things last night.’ 

‘Like what? Jesus, just fucking tell me.’ 

‘Um…er…you kept saying…um,’ Armin floundered. He looked at Mikasa for support. Mikasa sighed. ‘Eren, you kept saying how hot you found this Levi person and how you wanted to, ah, _fuck_ him.’ 

‘ _What?_ ’ 

‘Look, it was uncomfortable for all of us,’ shrugged Mikasa. ‘But we know you were wasted and people say the dumbest shit when they’re wasted. I mean, once I was so fucked up that I challenged Annie to a rap battle.’ Armin and Eren burst out laughing. ‘ _Luckily_ she glared at me and walked away before I could really embarrass myself. My point is, people are idiots when they’re drunk so I wouldn’t worry about it. He may be attractive, but that doesn’t negate the fact that he’s a massive douchebag. You can still find someone hot and still hate their guts.’ 

Eren smiled, grateful for the opportunity to steer the conversation away from him. ‘Hey, Mikasa, I would pay good money to see you participate in a rap battle. That would literally be the highlight of my year. I can see it now: you spitting fire, using all your sickest burns. Ah, the dream.’ He stared off wistfully into the distance. ‘When’s your mixtape dropping?’

Mikasa punched him in the arm.

 

The next few days were relatively uneventful. Eren spent most of his time working on his art and trying not to think about a certain art dealer. Whenever his face appeared in his mind, an overwhelming surge of hatred coursed through him, disrupting the usual sense of calm that washed over him whenever he was doing anything to do with art. By the time Friday rolled around, Eren had almost perfected the art of sufficiently distracting himself enough to quash any thoughts of Levi. 

‘Eren, you _can’t_ be late!’ squeaked Armin. ‘You heard what he said! You don’t want to antagonise him any further! And _please_ try to keep your anger in check.’ 

‘Armin, I think you’re more worried than me. Trust me, it’s gonna be fine. All I have to do see his stupid face tonight and then that dick will no longer be in my life.’ 

Armin nodded, eyes wide, still looking worried. Eren was more worried about whether people would like his art. He had given the piece that he thought best reflected his artistic talent to Hanji earlier in the week: a painting entitled _Forest of Giant Trees_ , depicting an immense forest, through which caped riders on horseback journeyed through. It was rare for Eren to feel fully satisfied about his art, but he was particularly proud of this piece. He really felt like it held an underlying sense of urgency; a whisper of an unknown threat underneath the surface, invisible to the naked eye but still very much palpable. He just hoped it was enough. 

He smoothed down his shirt and looked at Armin. ‘Do I look okay?’ 

‘Wow you look great!’ came Armin’s enthusiastic reply. ‘You actually look put-together for once,’ he added cheekily. Eren rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. Normally, Eren didn’t bother too much with what he wore, usually opting for his standard ripped jeans and whatever t-shirt on his floor that didn’t smell too bad. Since the art show was a pretty big deal in Eren’s eyes, he decided to actually put some effort in. He had to admit, he looked pretty good in his black tailored jacket, under which he wore a white shirt tucked into slim fitting black trousers. His hair was only slightly untidy, which he considered to be a miracle since his hair seemed to be in a constant state of disarray. 

‘How are you getting there, anyway?’ Armin asked. 

‘Oh, Connie’s giving me a lift in his car.’ 

Armin looked dubious. ‘Connie? Are you sure? Isn’t he late for like, _everything_?’ 

‘Chill, I’ve told him Levi’s really anal about lateness. _And_ I told him an earlier time so hopefully he’ll arrive at the actual time I’ve got to leave.’

‘Good thinking, Eren,’ said Armin, impressed. 

Eren put his hand on his chest in mock hurt. ‘I’m insulted that you doubt me, but thank you.’ 

A few minutes later, there were three sharp raps at the door. Eren ran his hands down his shirt again, suddenly nervous. ‘Are you sure I look okay?’ 

‘Of course! You look amazing. I’ll see you later at the art show, yeah?’ 

‘Yeah.’ He made his way towards the door. ‘Bye! See ya later!’ He opened the door to where Connie was standing, chewing gum. 

‘Yo,’ he said. ‘Y’all ready to go?’ 

Later, after enduring Connie’s incessant chatting about both the football game last night (which Eren knew nothing about), and Sasha (which Eren really didn’t want to hear about), they pulled up in front of The Wall. 

Eren checked his phone: 6:59. He was cutting it close to the wire. ‘Thanks, man, for driving me. I really appreciate it,’ he told Connie, hand on the car door. ‘Don’t mention it, you can just supply the alcohol for the next party.’ 

‘Deal.’ 

Once outside the car, he walked towards the entrance, trying to regulate his breathing. 

_Pull yourself together_ , he told himself. _It’s just dumb art show_. Inside The Wall, he looked around for a familiar face so he could know what the fuck was going on. 

‘Eren!’ came a shriek. Hanji was waving at him in a corner to the left of him. ‘Over here!’ 

‘Hi,’ he said, when he had caught up to her. ‘I’m not late, am I?’ 

‘It’s after fucking 7 o’clock, so yeah, I’d say you’re late,’ came another, displeased, voice. Eren looked behind him and found himself locking eyes with those cold eyes that had haunted him for a while now. ‘I _explicitly_ told you to not be late and what are you? Late. I should’ve fucking expected this.’ 

‘Give the boy a break, Levi,’ intervened Hanji gently, desperate to appease the situation. Levi glared at her in response. Hanji looked uncharacteristically uneasy. ‘Oh, okay. I’ll just…er…leave you to it. Bye!’ She left Eren and Levi together, a heavy silence falling between them. 

Levi sighed, using his thumb and forefinger to pinch the bridge of his nose. ‘I’m not going to get into this right now. I have a lot of work to do so I’ll deal with you later. But, for now, follow me. I’ll take you back to Hanji who will sort your sorry ass out.’ 

Abruptly, he spun on his heel and headed towards Hanji, who was talking to a tall, muscular blond man who looked to be about twice the size of Levi. Eren followed him, feeling like a child in disgrace. He hated this feeling; he wanted so badly to give in to his standard response of fighting back, never taking anyone’s shit. But the rational part of his brain told him that arguing with Levi now would not bode well for him in the slightest. Eren, for all his hostility and irrationality, wasn’t suicidal enough to provoke someone like Levi. And so Eren held his tongue and kept his hands clenched, a monumental effort on his part. He deigned to let his bottled up words of anger spill out once the art show was finished.

Over an hour later, and after Hanji’s long-winded explanation of the ins and outs of art shows and an extremely thorough history of art in general, rendering Eren exhausted, the art show had begun. The more he saw dignified art critics and artists alike inspect his art at length, the more he wanted to throw up. He felt more on show than the art. 

‘Eren!’ he turned to find Armin and Mikasa coming towards him. He broke out into a grin; _finally_ , people he could talk to without worrying about seeming uneducated and ignorant. They hugged him in turn and grinned at him. 

‘Well done! This is amazing, wow,’ Armin said, staring around at the art, eyes wide. 

‘Yeah, well done, Eren,’ said Mikasa, a small smile playing on her lips. Eren knew she was proud, even if she didn’t overtly show it. 

The time went more quickly after that. Eren found he was actually enjoying himself and the three of them had fun trying all of the hors d’oeuvres and making up fake pretentious meanings for the art on display. 

‘Ooh, I know,’ Eren said, looking at a canvas that was otherwise blank save for the single stripe of red that was painted off-centre down the length of the canvas. ‘The red line symbolises the…er…divide between people who like the colour red and people who…er…don’t.’ 

‘No,’ countered Armin. ‘ _Clearly_ , it symbolises the…cognitive dissonance of the artist. You see, one side is smaller than the other. They’re conflicted about…um…’ 

‘Ah ha!’ exclaimed Eren, pointing a finger at Armin. ‘You’re stumped! You have _no_ clue what the fuck that artist was trying to do.’ 

Armin threw his hands up in surrender. ‘Okay, fine. I have no idea what it means. Who does?’ 

‘You’re both idiots,’ said Mikasa. ‘Obviously, it’s an exploration of the uneven divide within society. It’s _very deep_.’ She folded her arms, pretending to look intellectual. ‘Or,’ she added. ‘They were really high one day and then decided to make some art despite them being really untalented.’ The three of them burst into laughter and were immediately shushed by a stern looking man in a tweed suit. 

‘Everyone’s so stuck-up here,’ whispered Eren, still trying to hold back his laughter. ‘I feel like they all have a stick up their ass. No one knows how to have fun. Maybe we should challenge them to some drinking games. I want to see tweed-suit over there chug a beer through a funnel.’ The three of them covered their mouths with their hands, laughter escaping from the gaps between their fingers.

At the end of the evening, Eren told Armin and Mikasa, ignoring their protests, to leave and he’ll meet them back at the apartment. Hanji had asked him to help clean up and plus, he was anxious to confront Levi. There was a fight within him that wanted to come out and he wasn’t about to let it lie dormant. He helped clean up as quickly as he could and set off to find Levi. 

‘Hey, Eren,’ said Hanji, stopping him in his tracks. ‘Well done today. Your piece got a lot of attention and quite a few offers were made. And to think, I taught you everything you know!’ Eren stared at her. She laughed. ‘I’m just kidding, silly! But seriously, I heard loads of people talking about how talented you were. My little protégé!’ 

‘Thanks, Hanji,’ Eren laughed. ‘Hey, do you, by any chance, know where Levi is?’ 

‘He’s in one of the storage rooms. I can’t remember which one, though. Why?’ 

‘No reason. Thanks!’ And with that he sped off. He half ran through the gallery, peering around corners and opening doors at random. Eventually, he came to a door at the back of the gallery and opened it, finding Levi inside. He shut the door quietly behind him, the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling barely lighting the room. Levi had his back to Eren and was attempting to place a canvas on one of the higher shelves. 

‘Oi, Hanji,’ he said, without turning around. ‘Could you help me here?’ 

‘It’s Eren.’ 

He nearly dropped the canvas. ‘ _Fuck_.’ He turned around, barely contained hostility etched on his face. ‘What the fuck do you want?’ He put the canvas down on the floor and crossed his arms. 

‘I thought you were going to ‘deal with me later’?’ Eren countered, using air quotes to emphasise his point. ‘That’s what you said, right?’ 

‘Don’t get cocky with me, Jaeger. You were the one who was late when I seem to remember telling you many times not to be. Do you not listen or are you just stupid?’ 

‘I was, like, _one_ fucking minute late. And stop calling me stupid and acting like you’re tougher than you are. What? Are you over-compensating for your height or something?’ Eren immediately sensed he had overstepped his boundaries. The change in the air was tangible. Levi stepped forward slowly. He radiated a sense of danger; the kind of danger that was unmatched and left people cowering in its wake. 

‘Do you want to fucking say that again?’ He was breathing hard now, his composure unravelling. ‘I _despise_ entitled brats like you who think they’re so _fucking_ special.’ 

‘Well, I _despise_ self-important assholes like you,’ growled Eren, unable to hold his tongue any longer. ‘What have you got against me, anyway? You never even gave me a chance.’ 

‘Because I knew who I was dealing with and you brats are all the same.’

‘You didn’t even know me!’ Eren was shouting now, not caring who heard him. ‘You’re just a _fucking asshole_ who finds joy in belittling others!’ He stepped forward. ‘I fucking hate your guts,’ Eren muttered, putting as much malice as he could in those quiet words. 

‘I don’t give a _fuck_ what you think of me.’ Levi’s look was one of violence; all daggers and poison. There was barely an inch between them; their shallow breaths intermingled in the charged electricity that hung in the air. 

‘Go to hell,’ he whispered. Unwillingly, his eyes momentarily flitted down to his lips. His breath caught in his throat. They stared at each other, animosity radiating off them in waves; the room was silent, save for their laboured breathing. A beat passed. Without realising it, lips crashed against lips and hands grabbed onto hair. Levi pushed Eren backwards, still kissing him furiously. Eren stumbled and found himself backed against the door, his shoulder blades digging painfully into it. But Eren didn’t care; he didn’t care that this hurt. He _wanted_ this, he realised. He had always wanted this, despite everything. Despite the ever-growing voice in his head screaming at him to stop. Because this was a bad idea and because he shouldn’t be doing this. But when Levi’s teeth teased at his bottom lip, and his hand raked through his hair, gently and greedily all at once, everything melted away and Eren thought that maybe he had made the right choice. 

‘Fucking asshole,’ Levi whispered against his lips. His hands snaked their way down to Eren’s ass. Eren gasped into Levi’s mouth. 

‘ _Ah_ – I could – say the same – about you,’ Eren managed to get out, all coherent thoughts dissipating. The only thing that occupied his mind now was the feel of Levi’s lips on his own, delicious and fierce and so fundamentally _wrong_ that it felt right. It felt so fucking right that a fire unfurled within the pit of his stomach, burning and intense.

Eren was hungry for more. His thigh inched its way up so it could wrap around Levi’s hips. Levi sensed this and hoisted Eren up so both of his legs encircled his hips. For someone so slight, Levi was surprisingly strong. Levi’s lips grazed their way down and latched onto his throat. Eren arched his head back to give him better access to his neck. A low, breathy moan escaped from the back of his throat, rapturous and aching for more. Levi sucked at the sensitive skin on Eren’s neck and Eren’s hands fisted in Levi’s soft hair, his eyes closed in a state of unadulterated ecstasy. Levi’s teeth bit down, a manifestation of all his pent up anger and a guttural moan escaped Eren’s lips once again, undone and filled with an all-consuming wanting. Levi’s soft lips made their way back up to Eren’s mouth. It was entangled tongues and the taste of each other and pure carnal desire. It was violent and sinful and everything Eren wanted. Their hips grinded together but Eren felt like he was too far away. He rolled his hips urgently and shallowly, eager to get the friction, eager to get closer. Levi sensed his urgency and matched his thrusts to own. The way Levi was rutting against him had Eren coming undone and completely at the mercy of Levi. It felt so good; so fucking _good_ he couldn’t think straight. Eren could feel the bulge in Levi’s trousers get harder and he noticed he was hard already. Hands roamed bodies and breaths intermingled in each other’s mouths and Eren was filled with such a wanton lust that his thoughts clouded. All rationality went out the window and he found himself desperate and craving a collision of skin. His hands went to the buttons on Levi’s shirt, eager to eliminate the restrictions their clothes created. The barrier was too much and Eren ached to feel the sensation of skin upon skin. Levi let Eren down, hands skimming his sides, so that he was standing and soon fingers were on buttons and belt loops and simply _everywhere_. 

‘Let me fuck you,’ breathed Levi into his ear. Eren shuddered, filled with such ardent yearning that he would have done anything Levi had told him to. 

‘Where did they go?’ Hanji. Her voice was outside the room. 

‘Shit, shit, _shit_ ,’ whispered Levi, moving swiftly away from Eren, leaving him standing there, suddenly cold without the heat that Levi provided. All of a sudden, the reality of what they had just done came crashing down; a weight on Eren’s shoulders, a tightness in his chest. 

Levi raked his hands through his uncharacteristically mussed hair. ‘This was a mistake,’ he exhaled. He pushed past Eren, opening the door and leaving Eren alone in the storage room. He stood there in the semi-darkness, hands and heart unsteady, wondering, not for the first time, what exactly he was feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe i used the word anal in a non-sexual way


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the end of uni got in the way and then i had horrific writer's block, and then christmas happened, but chapter four is finally here. i really hope you like it!

Eren walked out of The Wall in daze. His mind was clouded and his heart was torn and he didn’t know what to think. He didn’t want to speak so he hailed a cab, fuck the cost. He just wanted to sit in silence and try to make sense of the mess inside his head. Once in the cab, he stared out the window and watched the lights of the city go by. It had rained earlier; the neon lights blurring past the window, all soft edges and muted hues. He was grateful for the silence and used it to organise his emotions. Everything was confusing and everything was complicated and he was sick of it. So there he was again: muddled and breathless and it was all because of one man. The hatred in his heart had softened slightly; it was less stark than before and less like poison in his veins. But that wasn’t to say that he didn’t feel any animosity towards him. Now he was angry for another reason: a reason that he still felt on his lips; the ghost of a touch, like breath upon his skin, making him shiver. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something there: something electric and heated and no good for him. It was no good for him in a way that alcohol was; addictive and satisfying but ultimately too much would ruin you. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to wake up hungover and full of regret. 

The taxi pulled up outside his apartment building, forcing him to back to reality. After trying not to choke at the cost, he paid the driver and made his way wearily up the stairs. His lungs were on fire by the time he reached the top and his laboured breathing echoed down the hallway. When he got to the front door of his apartment, he fumbled for his keys and unlocked the door, using his shoulder to shove the door open. 

‘You’re back!’ Armin’s excited voice greeted him as soon as he stepped inside. 

He made his way to the living room where Armin and Mikasa were lounging on the sofa, an old episode of _Friends_ on the TV playing softly. The coffee table was littered with an assortment of empty mugs, an opened Doritos packet and a tub of salsa, and a pack of cards splayed out haphazardly. A chill ran through Eren that had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the memory of a pair of lips upon him, frantic and insistent. The memory of those lips suddenly leaving him, exposing him to the cold and all too aware of the separation. He had to tell them. He couldn’t keep this to himself; it was going to eat away at him like a virus.

‘What happened after we left?’ said Armin. His brows furrowed; he could sense something was off. 

‘Uh,’ Eren faltered. Mikasa looked up. 

‘What?’ she asked, curious. 

‘Levi kissed me,’ he blurted out. ‘Or rather, I kissed him. We both, er, we both kissed each other. Uh. It was a bit of blur; I can’t really remember.’ He could feel the beginnings of a blush forming on his face. 

‘ _What_?’ said Armin and Mikasa in unison. 

‘Do I have to say it again?’

‘I thought you hated the guy.’ Mikasa narrowed her eyes at him. Eren felt the weight of her gaze and he felt compelled to defend himself.

‘Wait,’ piped up Armin. ‘What happened?’ He paused. ‘Oh, and I don’t want to know, er, _everything_.’ 

‘Don’t worry, nothing really happened. It was just…a kiss.’ A soon as he said it, he knew that it wasn’t _just_ a kiss. It wasn’t _just_ anything. It was something that Eren felt deep within him, unyielding and all-consuming. It vied for his attention despite his protests and despite his better judgement. 

Mikasa and Armin were still staring at him, expectantly. ‘So?’

‘I don’t know. I went into the storage cupboard and he was there and I was angry. And we yelled at each other and then –’ He swallowed. ‘We just sort of…collided.’ 

He felt embarrassed just telling this watered-down version of events. ‘Um,’ he continued. ‘And then we heard Hanji’s voice outside the door and he just kind of…left.’

‘He left?’ Mikasa’s voice held all the concern of a fiercely protective sister. ‘Did he say anything?’

Eren looked down at his shoes. ‘He said…it was a…mistake,’ he mumbled, still not meeting her eyes.

‘That _fucker_.’

‘Don’t…’ he sighed. ‘Don’t _do_ anything.’ He lifted his gaze to Mikasa’s thunderous expression. 

‘It’s fine, it doesn’t mean anything. I’m okay. Really.’ 

‘If you say so.’

‘I _am_.’

‘Fine.’

The silence that filled the room was palpable. Mikasa knew Eren wasn’t being completely honest and Eren knew Mikasa didn’t believe him. They were at a stalemate of sorts.

Armin was desperate to relieve the tension. ‘Um, guys?’ he started, tentatively. ‘Do you want to…um…watch a movie? Or something?’ His voice squeaked at the last word. 

‘Ah shit, I’m sorry, Armin,’ said Eren, guiltily. ‘Yeah, sure. Why not?’

‘Oh, and Eren?’ Armin continued.

‘Yeah?’

‘I think you should forget about him. He sounds like bad news.’

‘I’ll try.’

‘Thank you.’

Eren fully intended on forgetting about him. The trouble was, it was hard to forget about someone who was determined to be forever committed to memory.

The next morning, he awoke with Levi on his mind and an ache in his chest. This was so _stupid_. Levi was a certified asshole and it was just a kiss. A kiss that set his heart racing and his temperature rising, fervent desire under his skin and in his veins, but a kiss nonetheless. Peeling back his covers, he dragged himself out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. The fluorescent bathroom light was harsh on his sleep filled eyes and he squinted at his reflection in the mirror. It took some time for him to realise what he was seeing: his neck was a warzone. A sizeable purple bruise painted his skin, tinged with flecks of blue and tender to the touch. He hadn’t noticed it last night, possibly because his mind was slightly too occupied with Levi. Now, he examined the hickey that bloomed on his neck and felt as if he were branded. It was almost as if Levi had claimed him, and the worst part was that Eren didn’t mind as much as he should have. He resisted the edge to slap himself. He wasn’t normally like this. This wasn’t _him_. He wasn’t the type to linger on fleeting moments of passion, nor was he the type to obsess of the person in question. So why had Levi got under his skin, against his better judgement and against every rational thought he had. His head hurt. He didn’t know what to feel and what to do about it.  


Despite the confusion that was very much at the forefront of his mind, he still felt the undercurrent of anger coursing through him. That familiar feeling made its way through his veins; through the mess of synapses and nerves, blood cells and bones, and settling in every corner of his body. He didn’t know who he was angrier at: Levi or himself. In any case, emotions were a complicated thing, and he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to acknowledge them just yet.

He walked out of the bathroom, mind still reeling. Walking into the living room, he spotted Armin on the sofa, reading a book, that was almost as big as his face, on art history. 

‘Not fucking art history again,’ groaned Eren. ‘It’s _literally_ the worst. I’d rather make out with Jean than write another essay on it.’ 

Armin looked at him. ‘Actually,’ he continued. ‘That’s _too_ disgusting. I’d rather…’ He paused, contemplative. 

‘Whilst you’re trying to decide what lurid act you’d rather do than write an essay,’ said Armin. ‘Are you okay? You seemed pretty…out of it last night.’ His eyes drifted down to Eren’s neck, the purple mark stark against his skin, like paint on a canvas. ‘Woah, I didn’t notice _that_ last night.’

‘Ah,’ said Eren, his fingers probing his neck. ‘I didn’t notice it until this morning either. Um. Wild, isn’t it? It’s like he wants me to remember him or something.’ He breathed out a laugh which fell flat and hung heavy in the air around them. Armin looked at him, eyebrows furrowed, eyes wide, and the corners of his lips turned down. 

Eren rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, don’t give me that pity look. I’m not a wounded puppy.’

‘I never said you were.’

‘Well, you implied it.’ 

‘I just think you should forget about him, that’s all. He’s clearly making you miserable.’

Eren sighed, already tired of the conversation. ‘He’s not making me _miserable_. I’m fine. Peachy, in fact. I couldn’t care less about him.’ That was a blatant lie and they both knew it. Eren hated how his emotions were clearly etched on his face and the fact that it made him feel vulnerable was even worse. He silently cursed Levi for making him this way. Just who was he to fuck with his emotions like this? He never wanted to be the person who fell into the trap of an unrequited infatuation. 

‘We should do something,’ came Armin’s voice, cutting through his reverie. 

‘What?’

‘We should do something to make you forget about him. You need to get out of this slump. Mikasa and I are worried about you.’

‘Don’t be.’

‘Eren,’ Armind sighed. ‘You can’t keep going on like this. You looked so defeated when you came home last night. This isn’t _you_. Mikasa suggested that we go to a club or something next weekend. She reckons you should…er…get… _laid_.’ He whispered the last word, face burning. 

Eren suppressed a snort. ‘God, it’s hilarious how embarrassed you get when someone even remotely mentions sex.’

‘I do not!’ Armin squeaked, his face getting gradually more and more red. 

‘I’m just messing with you,’ laughed Eren. ‘Okay, fine. We’ll go to a club. I mean, it might be fun. And who knows, I might get _laid_ , as you so cutely put it.’ Armin squeaked in protest. ‘Plus, the fact that you’re actually willing to go to a club for my benefit is impressive. I know clubs aren’t really your thing.’

‘Really? Thanks, Eren. I know Mikasa will be pleased.’

‘Yeah, well, I’ve gotta forget about that colossal bag of dicks somehow.’ 

Armin smiled. ‘Maybe we should invite everyone. Make it a _thing_.’

‘I’d rather Jean come than write another essay about the history of art,’ said Eren.

‘Good,’ Armin replied. ‘That’s settled then.’

  


The following week passed in a blur of classes and unsuccessful attempts at forgetting the collision of lips and bodies that, if he was honest with himself, he still wanted to remember. Art was made and thrown away numerous times; books were thrown across the room in frustration (Eren); and lectures served as bedtimes (again, Eren). The week was boring, monotonous, and Eren was grateful for that. It allowed him to ignore the unwelcome thoughts that still resided within him. The way he saw it, if he ignored them for long enough, they would sit, unacknowledged, gathering dust and eventually filed away into the archives of his mind. The idea filled him with a feeling that felt an awful lot like relief coupled with a slight uncomfortable tightness in his chest. He hoped that was temporary. 

On Friday, Eren found himself looking forward to Armin’s plan of action, which Eren had dubbed ‘operation-get-dick-to-forget-a-dick’. They had planned to pre-drink at Eren and Armin’s apartment along with most of their friends. Now, they lounged in the living room of Armin and Eren’s apartment, playing a selection of drinking games. Jean had suggested ‘Never Have I Ever’, which was met with a mixture of cheers and groans. 

‘Okay…never have I ever…’ mused Jean. ‘had a threesome.’ 

‘Ah, shit,’ said Sasha as her and Connie took a drink. Everyone stared at them. 

‘Wow I so do _not_ want to know,’ said Eren. 

‘I _do_ ,’ said Jean, wide-eyed.

‘OKAY,’ Sasha interjected loudly. ‘Never have I ever…given a blowjob to someone who I had just met in the bathroom at a party.’

‘That’s a very specif-’ started Eren. He stopped and stared, open-mouthed at Mikasa who took a drink from her cup, eyes down and the beginnings of a blush blooming on her cheeks. Eren didn’t know whether he was impressed or horrified. 

‘God,’ breathed Jean. ‘Who was it?’ The look Mikasa threw him was a dagger dipped in poison and the whole room felt it. They switched the game to ‘Ring of Fire’ and the subject was dropped.

An hour later, once most people had got suitably wasted, they made their way to Colossal, the club where most students of Shiganshina University frequented. 

‘Right, everybody,’ began Eren, looking around at everyone. He stood in front of the door, blocking the way.  
‘Do you all have your fake IDs? Armin, I know you’re _morally against it_ or whatever, but you’re coming with us  
whether you like it or not.’

‘Eren,’ Armin said, pointing an accusatory finger at him. ‘I’m the one who suggested this, remember?’

‘Oh, yeah. Right. Well, are we all ready to go?’ There was a chorus of affirmation, the level of drunkenness ranging in severity.

‘Cool, cool. Let’s go!’ Eren led them out the apartment and down the stairs with the assured firmness of the leader of a revolution. And so they stepped out into the biting air of a late autumn night, with shining eyes and blood pumping with both alcohol and excitement, the night sparkling in front of them, alive with possibility and the expectation of the unexpected.

The club was electric; sweat and energy poured off the walls, the thumping bass reverberating through the floor and through every pore. The neon lights vivid and soft all at once; the club awash with both colour and darkness. Bodies crushed against bodies, the concept of personal space a distant memory and the least of everyone’s concerns. The music filled Eren, streaming through him until it overflowed and spilled out onto the floor. Everywhere, there were couples paired up: Connie and Sasha were making out in front of him, Jean and Marco had snuck off at some point, and surrounding him, he saw hands on bodies and mouths on necks and Eren was struck with the aching memory of Levi’s goddamn mouth upon his own. The atmosphere bled sexuality and Eren felt like an anomaly. 

‘I’ll be back in a sec!’ he shouted at Armin, who nodded in response. He weaved his way through the throng, through the mess of limbs and chests and hands, feeling suffocated. The current was too strong and he was drowning in it with nothing to cling onto. He scanned the crowd to look for the exit, and suddenly someone’s eyes locked with his. He knew those eyes. Was he too drunk and hallucinating? Maybe he had finally lost it. No. There was no doubt about it. Levi was here and Eren couldn’t breathe. Forcefully, he pushed his way through the writhing bodies. Eventually, he reached the other end and Levi was still there, back against the wall and looking just as beautiful as he remembered. His heart ached.

‘What are you doing here?’ yelled Eren over the music. 

Instead of answering, Levi grabbed his arm and led him to the door signifying the men’s bathroom. It was a smallish room, covered in white tiles. It held a certain griminess that usually came with bathrooms in nightclubs, except this one wasn’t quite as disgusting as far as club toilets went. On the right side was a row of sinks, the left side taken up by three cubicles and three urinals. Two men occupied the sinks, whilst one was at the urinals. 

‘Get out,’ growled Levi, looking around at the number of guys in the room.  


‘Who the fuck do you think you are?’ asked one particularly drunk-looking man standing by the sinks, blond hair cropped close to his head and a sneer that seemed to be permanently attached to his face. 

‘I own this club so unless you want to see what happens once someone crosses me, I’d suggest that you fucking get out of this bathroom now,’ said Levi, voice low and charged with the promise of danger. The sneering man balled his fists up but nonetheless left the bathroom, along with the rest of the men in the room, leaving Eren and Levi alone, once again. Levi went to the door and locked the door. He turned around and when his eyes bore into his, Eren’s heart contracted. 

Eren cut through the silence. ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘You _own_ this club? Since _when_?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘No, but – ‘

‘There we are then.’ 

Eren took a deep breath. ‘Okay…so…what? Why are you here? Why are we in this bathroom together? Alone?’

‘Because I wanted to talk to you.’

‘What the _fuck_?’ Eren could feel the familiar buzz that felt a lot like anger beginning to wash over him. It was like white noise, like static; a ringing in his ears, a fog in his brain, a lapse of judgement. ‘You fucking make out with me in a fucking _broom cupboard_ and then you fucking leave and say it was a mistake. A _fucking mistake_. Do you know how that feels? Do you?’ He was shouting now; his voice echoing around the bathroom, bouncing off the tiled walls and punching him in the gut. ‘And now you say you wanna talk. _Talk_. Like it’s simple. Like it’s nothing. Like _I’m_ nothing.’ He had laid his heart out on the floor for Levi to see and he was waiting for it to be crushed.

Levi stared at him for a long moment. ‘Shut up.’

‘Fucking make me.’

It happened so fast. So fast that neither of them knew exactly what was happening until it was too late. It was too late and the damage had been done. Lips were on lips once again and there was more heat than before. It blazed and flickered and Eren wanted to be burned. 

‘Shut up,’ growled Levi into Eren’s open mouth. Eren never wanted to shut up more.

Levi closed in on Eren and suddenly his back was against the row of sinks. Levi’s tongue intertwined with Eren’s and if in response, Eren sat at the edge of the sink and wound his legs around Levi’s hips, pulling him closer. They pressed into each other like an inch was too far and to Eren, an inch might as well be a mile. He wanted the contact, the warmth, the _feeling_ of proximity. Levi’s fingers curled into the hair at the nape of Eren’s neck and suddenly they were gasping into each other’s mouths, their breath intermingling and Eren wanted nothing more than to inhale the air that Levi breathed. It felt forbidden and maybe it was. It felt like sin and Eren had never been one for religion, but when Eren’s tongue ran over Levi’s bottom lip, he tasted like _salvation_. It was sin and salvation all at once and Eren felt the need to worship at the alter that was Levi. 

Agonisingly slowly, Levi’s lips travelled up towards Eren’s ear and whispered, ‘Can I suck you off?’

Eren shivered and nodded, breathing fast, eyes wide and lips parted. He got off the row of sinks and Levi’s hands raked down his torso and to where the waistband of his jeans were. With a deft quickness, Levi unbuttoned Eren’s jeans and pulled them down. Levi’s hands paused at the waistband of his underwear, toying with the fabric, waiting for permission. 

‘ _Yes_ ,’ Eren breathed out, already half hard. 

Levi pulled down Eren’s underwear, slow and deliberate, and Eren’s hands clenched, nails leaving angry marks in his palms. Before he knew it, Levi was on his knees and had Eren’s cock in his hands, the pad of his thumb stroking softly over the tender skin. His thumb went over to the head and when it touched the slit, Eren couldn’t help the moan that made its way out of his throat, strangled and desperate. By now, he was fully hard and he knew that he would have to control himself. 

‘ _Shit_ ,’ he breathed. ‘You’re gonna make me cum right now.’

Levi smirked like he knew. ‘Such a greedy boy, aren’t you? You have to learn some manners.’

‘Pl- _please_.’

‘That’s more like it.’ Suddenly, Levi took the tip of Eren’s cock in his mouth and Eren’s head rolled back, caught in the ecstasy, a sigh spilling out of his mouth. Levi’s tongue, expert and practiced, circled around the head, as he stroked the base with his hand. He sucked up and down his length, deliciously warm, leaving a trail of wet kisses Eren’s toes curled and his hands fisted in Levi’s hair as he hissed through his teeth. ‘Ah, _fuck_.’ 

Levi took this as a sign to go deeper, taking as much as he could into his mouth. Eren marvelled at Levi’s apparent lack of gag reflex and when Levi’s tongue ran over the thick vein on the underside of his cock, he saw stars. He got desperate; taking purchase of the top of Levi’s head, he thrusted further into his mouth. Levi took his cock well, taking it nearly all the way to the hilt. By now, Eren was shamelessly fucking Levi’s mouth, each thrust getting more and more ragged.

‘Levi…ah… _fuck_.’ Levi’s eyes lifted and as he stared at him, Eren felt like he had caught a glimpse of paradise. 

Levi’s mouth wrapped around his cock, hair mussed, cheeks flushed, and with the hooded predaciousness of his light blue eyes, he looked so perfect. He looked the way he tasted: like sin intermingled with the sweetness that was redemption. Any breath that was still held captive within his mouth came tumbling out in a series of sighs punctuated with the coarse moans of arousal. Eren was getting close; he could feel it. He felt the curling heat of the beginnings of an orgasm deep within him, waiting to explode. 

He dug his fingernails into Levi’s scalp and managed to breathed out, ‘ _Ah…fuck_ …I think… _ah_ …I’m going to… _fuck_ …cum.’

Eren could feel Levi smirk and watched as he slid his mouth off his cock and released it with an obscene _pop_. 

Eren couldn’t help the indignant whine that came out of him. His cock felt so cold after the warmth of Levi’s mouth. 

‘Why –’

‘You’ll cum when I say so,’ said Levi, eyes glinting dangerously. 

‘I don’t think it’s that easy,’ whimpered Eren, the unwelcome cold air and the absence of Levi’s mouth making his cock twitch. 

Levi’s answering laugh was a harsh exhale through his nose. ‘Sit on the sink.’ Eren obliged, desperate for some release. Levi’s hand wrapped around Eren’s cock once again and like before, the moans that seeped from Eren’s needy mouth were what the air was made of. He began pumping his cock, slowly, deliberately and the fire that had ignited within Eren started shooting out sparks. Levi began to pump faster, until Eren was teetering on the edge of an orgasm, toe on the edge of a cliff. 

Suddenly, Levi’s mouth was beside Eren’s ear and his husky words were the hands that pushed him off the cliff: ‘Cum for me, baby.’ 

Eren was free-falling, eyes closed, a stream of white erupting from his cock, dripping down Levi’s hand that was still pumping him through his orgasm. Eventually, the fire had died down and Eren was left panting and wrecked. He swallowed thickly and stared at Levi, chest heaving and mind reeling. What had just happened was very low on the outcomes he had expected from that night. He was left confused once again, only this time he was supplied with confirmation that Levi was, as Eren had secretly suspected, exceedingly talented with his mouth.

‘So,’ he said, after a moment had passed. ‘How about that talk?’


End file.
